Her hand moved to her neck where it encountered the necklace or collar that Knorris had put on her. It muted her magic and she could cast no significant spells while it was on her. She needed none to heal this man, all that was needed was the knowledge of healing and herbs. All witches learned that before they learned spells. Some witches never moved past that to learn the spells. Only witches that had healthy auras and would use the magic for the good of all went on to learn magic. She’d told Knorris she couldn’t kill with her magic and luckily he’d believed it. Closer to the truth was that she wouldn’t do it and nothing he could do would make her. Not that he hadn’t had to force her hand to get her to help him at all.
At first she’d refused. He’d lined up prisoners of war and threatened them. She’d help him with one thing and he’d always demand more. He kept lining up the prisoners and she’d give in. Finally he’d looked at her, his face cold, cruel, and emotionless.
He threatened, “Do as I say or next time I line them up, someone will die.”
She’d felt chilled to her bones and what was more, she’d believed him. It had still come down to the day he’d asked something of her she refused to do. Her heart had pounded so hard it had hurt. She’d looked helplessly at the prisoners lined up in a row. They were sad men without much hope except she could see some of them hoped to die. Knorris didn’t do much for his prisoners. He worked them hard but fed them poorly. Get sick and if you didn’t heal on your own they removed your body throwing it out to the wild creatures in the nearby woods to dispose of it. Sometimes they weren’t even dead yet.
She’d heard the screams of agony from her room one night. She’d ask a friendly guard what was happening and he’d told her. It didn’t pay to be a prisoner of the Knorris. That was what he wanted to be called, the Knorris. He came from a long line of well-known warriors but he felt like he was the greatest of them all. Hence, the Knorris. He was arrogant and over confident and she prayed to the goddess nightly that the one called the general would defeat him in battle. It never happened, but it still could. She had recognized the man she was trying to heal. She wondered who had poisoned him. She was sure it wasn’t Knorris. Not that he wouldn’t do it, he just wasn’t creative enough to come up with it. He was, however cruel enough to kill with such a debilitating poison. This was personal and whoever had done it hated this man deep down to their soul.
Her mind jumped back in time to the day Knorris had finally brought her in line with his wishes. The men were lined up and none of them seemed to care that he intended to kill one of their number. If anything they all seemed to want to be the one to die.
“Pick one, Roxen. Which one should I kill?”
She’d looked at him thunderstruck. Had she heard him right? He expected her to choose one of these poor men to die?
“Pick me,” an old man with one eye and one arm said. He looked world weary and near to the grave already.
“Pick me,” said a young man covered with oozing sores and every rib clearly outlined.
“I cannot choose!” she screamed. She wasn’t a goddess to decide matters of life and death. She heard several more speak up and soon they were all chanting choose me.
“Choose Roxen or I’ll kill them all. You’ll leave me no choice,” Knorris assured. She looked into lifeless eyes. He would do as he threatened, she had no doubt.
“Him,” she said pointing to the old man who looked so ill. She recognized the illness he had and he’d not last much longer. Without medicine, something none of them would receive, he’d die in excruciating pain.
“Thank you, Lady,” the old man said just a second before he lost his head.
“See, Roxen, that’s what happens when you refuse me,” Knorris declared with a smile. She’d disliked him before that day, but now she hated him. He’d put blood on her hands nothing would ever erase.
She glared at him but he just chuckled. He was a man who rarely found humor in anything except his dark deeds. He was now sure of his hold over her and all he’d had to do was kill one harmless sick old man. Knorris was a monster and he was proud of it. That was the day he’d forced her to push his enemy back. She’d had to get creative to push them back in a way that hurt no one. Knorris had loved the result and hated the harmless way she’d done it. He’d glared at her but she’d had a moment of satisfaction that she’d managed to skirt around what he’d asked and done only what she’d had to do. She’d spent a year doing that and he’d spent the year trying to get her to cause harm. If it wasn’t for her healing abilities, which he’d used more than once personally, she thought he’d bed her and forget about her magic. Thank the goddess she’d not been subjected to that.
Now she was in the hands of a new warden. She’d been freed from Knorris only to be kept by another and she would have to ferret out his character and what he hoped to accomplish by using her. She followed along behind the two brawny guards as they carried their leader to the private bathing area where a large brass tub, large enough for two, sat waiting full of water. A boy brought the items she’d requested and she opened them looking through them. She found the herb she needed and she sprinkled it in the water. A sweet minty smell hit her nose and she inhaled its calming scent. She motioned for them to lower him into the tub. She was brought another cloth, one used for bathing.
She began to wash him taking her time to hit every part of him so all the poison would be removed. He was a big man and she couldn’t help but notice how well formed and muscular he was. Every part of him was beautifully made. He was the kind of man that tempted a woman to the carnal side. She needed no such temptations. She’d seen what love or what passed for love in these times wrought for a woman as she watched her own mother self-destruct. She wanted no part of that kind of life.
The times they lived in were harsh especially for woman. There were married women who were generally safe from the attentions of men. There were those women considered unattractive, men left them alone and she envied them. There were those women who were protected mostly by strong men, fathers and brothers with money, power, or enough strength that they were respected. The last group of women were considered whores even if they were virginal. They were unprotected or they had been taken captive by a man with more strength than the one that tried to protect them or they had no protector at all. They were considered available for use by any man that had the strength to take them. In her case that had been Knorris first and now these men. The ones that had taken her for the general.
No man showed her respect now and they never would. She was reviled and shamed. She saw it in their eyes right along with the fear and dislike. She had once been an honored healer. Oh how the mighty had fallen, far and away from any possibility of ever regaining her standing. She looked down at the man in the tub and noticed the color seeped back into his face. He no longer sported the gray pallor of approaching death. She had no doubt at this point even without the herbal tea she planned to give him that he would recover. The tea would speed his recovery by days and see him up and about in no time.
Her talent was both a blessing and a curse. It had kept her alive thus far but at what cost? Was she to spend her life being abducted and taken from one keeper to another always fearing for not just her life but her morals? Was this really any life at all? She dropped down to her knees beside the tub and continued to cleanse this man that held her life and her wellbeing in his hands. She moved the cloth slowly and with great care under the watchful eyes of the general’s second and the two guards. She sensed these men loved him. It was more than just loyalty to their leader. He was more than just a leader to them, he was a friend.
The job was a mindless task and her mind wandered to her early years. Her mother had raised her in the way the witches followed. It wasn’t always an easy way, but it was theirs. They caused no harm, ever. It was against the rules that had been burned into her at the earliest age that she could understand them. She was tender hearted anyway with a love for all, or so she’d once thought. That was before her
time with Knorris where she’d seen unimaginable evil and maleficence. Now she understood some should not be suffered to live. That was only for those whose aura were blackened with the vilest color and the deepest hatred of all things good and right.
The witches were peaceful pacifists. They had no hate, war, crime, or violence among their kind. Anger existed, how could it not? But it was controlled and channeled into useful activities. Her power was immense, in the hands of a cruel and violent creature like Knorris, she could wipe out an army with the snap of her fingers. If used against a vile creature like Knorris, he and his army would be gone just as easily. What held her back was her deep seated belief that to do so would be wrong. The things he’d had her do had never given him a major advantage, only a temporary reprieve but she knew he was aware of what she was capable of under the right circumstances.
The general twitched as she cleaned his private parts. He was a randy one, she’d heard stories about his conquests. It was doubtless what had led to his malady. He’d be better served to keep it in his pants until he met his one. He was also too tempting, too virile. She needed to stay as far from him as possible. There was no place in her life for a casual tryst, the risks were just too great. She was the perfect example of that. Her unwed mother had raised her to the best of her ability. It was lucky for her that among their kind it was not considered shameful for a woman to have a child on her own. In the rest of the world, it made you a pariah.
She finished his bath and motioned that he was ready to be taken out and dried. They laid him on a narrow bench. It was not the best place but it was all they had. Once she dried him, they helped her dress him in a night shirt to cover his nakedness. It made her feel better since she didn’t have to view his splendid body. They carried him back to his bed where someone had changed out the dirty bedding for clean as she had requested. The guards laid him down gently on one side of the bed.
“Now that he’s better, where do I stay?” she asked. The guards refused to look at her.
One finally mumbled, ”Ask Adame.”
She was just guessing that would be the man who had tied her life to that of his leader. He’d left once they gone to the tub and it was anyone’s guess when he’d return. She was tired, exhausted really, but she hesitated to climb into bed with such a sexual predator. No woman was safe from him because he didn’t seem to care what age, race, or even whether they were married or otherwise spoken for. If they were willing, it seemed he was as well. She sat in a nearby chair and hoped Adame would soon come back.
Her mind returned to a year ago when she’d woke in an unfamiliar room. She’d felt something about her neck and realized she’d been collared. There were various types of collars but they all indicated ownership. She was now considered a slave. The collar she wore limited her magic to only the most basic spells. She was now as helpless as novice. She wondered who had done this to her, how they had managed to render her unconscious. The only answer was she’d been betrayed and someone had slipped something in her drink or cast a spell on her. It had to be a witch or someone she trusted to get so close.
The door to the cell rattled as someone pushed it open. Her heart skipped a beat and she was momentarily robbed of breath. It was Knorris who stood in front of her gloating with his victory. His eyes slowly dropped from where they had stared in hers to make their way down her body stopping at her breasts and her thighs before going to the floor and back up to her eyes.
“You are beautiful, my dear, and all mine!” he proclaimed.
“What is it you wish of me?” she asked coolly looking calm and composed although she was terrified. Of all the men in the land, why this one? He had a reputation for cruelty that came from his sadistic acts. She’d never heard of any who came close. Even his king and his emperor were known to show mercy at times but not this one.
“Surely a smart witch like you can guess?” he said with a chuckle. His intent was to breed fear in her but she’d not be terrified so easily.
“Pray explain it to me clearly,” she requested.
“Very well, you will be my witch and no one else’s. You will kill my enemies, warm my bed, and do whatever I desire whenever I desire it. Is that clear?” he asked.
“That may be what you want, but I will say this. Take me against my will my next and last spell with be to remove all my magic and then you may kill me or perhaps I’ll kill myself,” she threatened looking straight into his eyes with all the intent she could summon.
She saw the desire being overtaken by the anger. Disappointment flared in his eyes but acceptance took hold. He wanted her magic more than he wanted to bed her. He thought he’d get her in his bed once his need for her magic was gone. She could only hope that time would never come.
“Very well, Witch, but know this. Woman fall at my feet and you will too one day soon,” he claimed.
That would only happen if she was bespelled because she started out fearing and disliking this man and those feelings were growing stronger. His appearance wasn’t ugly, but neither was he handsome. His hair was dirty blond and really dirty. She doubted that he bathed regularly and she’d admit it wasn’t always easy to do. Water for drinking came first and once needs were met sometimes no water remained. His eyes were a dull brown because his soul was dark. He was tall and broad which might gain him the interest of a woman if she didn’t look close enough to see the black inside him.
“I have a task for you,” he directed as he opened the door so she could follow him out. He kept his eyes on her and as her hand rubbed nervously over it, he chuckled. “I see you discovered my gift.”
“Gift?” she asked thinking him outrageous. It was an enslaving device no more or less.
“Yes, I had the finest collar the world has ever seen made just to grace your neck. When I remove it so you can do your magic, a knife will be at your throat. Now tell me you don’t prefer the collar?” he chuckled again. The fiend found her situation hilarious. She hoped someday to see him in a similar one.
They had gone up many steps when he opened a door and led her out onto a balcony of sorts. Her eyes blinked in the bright sunlight trying to make out something that would indicate this task he needed done. She saw nothing nearby that would need attention but in the far distance was an army approaching.
“What is it you wish Lord Knorris?” she asked respectfully.
“Destroy them,” he ordered calmly.
“Pardon?” she asked.
“DESTROY THEM!” he screamed.
“I fear you’ve not researched my people, Lord Knorris. Our magic is restricted against killing or causing severe injury to others. We can do no direct harm,” she explained calmly.
His face turned purple with rage. “I want them gone!” he demanded.
“Alright,” she agreed. He removed her collar and held the knife to her throat. She waved her hands and the army disappeared.
“That’s more like it. I will hear no more of this nonsense about not causing harm,” he directed.
“But I didn’t harm them,” she whispered.
“What did you do to them?” he asked curiously.
“I simply moved them from your sight,” she explained.
He sighed as if the explanation were simply too much but he reattached her collar. “Not what I wished for, but it will help anyway.” He led her back down one set of steps and to a room at the end of the hall. “This will be your room. Mine is across the hall and my guards are in the rest of the rooms on this hallway. They’ll keep us both safe,” he declared. Unsaid was that they would prevent her from escaping, now or ever.
He opened the door and let her walk in before him. Once she was inside he shut the door and she heard the lock turn. It was a simple lock, easy to undo. It was the guards that would keep her in place. That and the collar was spelled to prevent her from removing it and so he could track her if she escaped. She moved to the bed and sat down before her shaky legs gave out. The room was the most luxurious one she’d ever seen. Her kind believed in li
ving comfortably, but they’d never waste money on these types of luxuries if any of their people did without. They were charitable to a fault and always tried to help others. It was their way to take responsibility to make the world a better place. If no one took the lead, how would things ever get better?
The things he asked her to do from that time on were much like that day. She’d move the other army away or his closer to the desired position. What he didn’t know was she’d also take a second to undercut him. A valued general would disappear to reappear in the enemy encampment. Some supplies for the officers would disappear and show up in the prisoner’s cells or the homes of the poor. Small things easily written off to the corruption of supply clerks, the desertion of cowards, and the work of traitors that were always in every large enterprise. She took great comfort from anything she could do regardless of how small. She knew if he suspected her, he would kill her or worse but it never made her hesitate.
There was a knock on the door. It had been a week or more without a task so it was no surprise that he came for her. She opened the door to a guard who told her to follow him. He took her to Knorris’ meeting room. Knorris had laid it out like a throne room with a chair that would rival most thrones. There was a child, a filthy street urchin but she felt the magic rise from her.
“Ah, so nice to see you this morning Roxen. I want you to meet someone. This is Alxa, she will be your replacement someday,” he motioned to the poor child at his feet. She’s untrained but I’ve been told raw talent flows through her. Once she matures, your magic won’t be needed,” he ogled her as he spoke.
She smiled at the tiny thing. As Knorris motioned he was done with them for now. The child followed her like a puppy. She instructed the guard to get someone to help her bath Alxa. Once the child was cleaned, dressed, and fed, she took stock of her. She was a young female witch. Witches came in both sexes but the females generally had the powerful magics and their race was matriarchal. The males often farmed, were herbalists, house husbands, and did generally a myriad of things besides spells and potions. All witches, both male and female were healers. Only one in twenty was powerful enough to make a living doing spells. Only one in thirty of those were males.
Beyond The Veil: A Paranormal & Magical Romance Boxed Set Page 225
